that family I babysat for last week? Well, what I didn't mention was that it was a trial run for a part-time nannying position. I'm supposed to work 2-3 days a week from 7:30 to 3:30. This week I did 7:30 to 3:30 on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and then "my" family ended up needing a babysitter today as well. I was supposed to work 9:30 to 5:30. And then the kids' dad's car's battery died, so he didn't get back from work until 6:00. As I write this sentence, it's 8:15 and I haven't had dinner yet. (It's cooling on the stove. I did have hot chocolate once I got home and a few handfuls of mozzarella while I was making the pizza.)
Yes, I DID melt into a puddle right there on the kitchen floor.
On Thursday she told me I was a great babysitter two more times. The first time, we were playing Battleship together while the baby napped. (She won fair and square. It's strange but true that sometimes randomness beats strategy.) The second time, we were all sitting at the window watching snow fall outside and Girl made a comment about how this might be the first snow Baby remembers and I replied that I don't remember anything that happened when I was 1 and that started this deep philosophical conversation about memories. After which she told me I'm a great babysitter.
Today the little boy (a 6-year-old who goes to a Catholic school rather than being homeschooled like his sister and was only present from 3:45 to 6:00 today) said that the baby was the best brother EVER. The girl piped up with "And guess who's the best babysitter ever?" The boy guessed right. AM DEAD FROM THE CUTE.
Half of the time I think this is awesome because that means I will totally rock being a stay-at-home mom. (It's babysitting minus the daily dose of things that tend to make me anxious, such as driving and associating with grown-ups I don't know well.) The other half of the time I worry that I am getting an excessively rosy picture of things and the first day I'm home alone with a baby I will be cruelly disappointed that its parents are not coming to pick it up and become terribly depressed as a result and be so scarred by the experience that I never want to have a second child and all my hopes and dreams will be dashed, etc.
Aren't you jealous of my brain?
We will here pause for a moment and laugh at the idea that somebody like me has the social finesse to successfully identify a look of unmet expectation. Probably people's faces just look like that all the time and I never noticed before.
Anyway, I'm not used to this happening with babysitting because most of my recent babysitting has been for 1) My mother 2) My old youth group director or 3) My Ministry to Moms mom, who I stuck with for 2 of my 4 years at college.
Now I'm with new people and they ask stuff and I answer and then there's that awkward pause where I feel like I am supposed to chatter about something and my mind is totally blank. Like: "How was the drive?" "Fine." [pause]
That's actually a bad example, because now I know that when asked about the drive I should comment on the traffic and/or the weather. The weather has been cooperating with my need for small talk fodder lately; I can discuss the fact that it was raining on my way there and is expected to snow in the afternoon or whatever. I am also building a stock of things to say at the end of the day when asked how the kids were. (At first: "They were good." [pause] Now: "They ate these things for lunch and we played these games and Girl is really mastering two-digit addition and subtraction.")
Is there like a small-talk manual somewhere out there so I can pick this up faster?
It has been further pointed out to me that now odds are good that the existence of my blog has been leaked to the Western Ohio Homeschool Mother Grapevine, and therefore I should watch what I say.
Now I'm thinking of that scene from Dr. Horrible where he says he needs to be more careful because Captain Hammer and the chief of police watch his vlogs.
Anyhoodle. I have a long-standing policy of not saying bad stuff about bosses or professors on my blog, so if I DID have bad stuff to say about my current bosses I wouldn't say it here. I can't say that everything on this blog is something I'd willingly say to someone in person, but bear in mind that I'm painfully shy with everyone over the age of about 12. So this is kind of my outlet for all the things I'd say if I was an extrovert. And long-term readers could tell you that I'm okay with admitting that I'm wrong if I say something regrettably stupid. (Mari in particular might remember one hours-long Skype conversation about a post I wrote a few years back. I ended up admitting she was right and I was...less right.)
The attentive among you might notice that I was working Tuesday and might remember that Scott doesn't drive. (Yet.) Fortunately, we live all of 3 miles away from his family and managed to prevail upon them to give him a ride to the nearest bus stop so he could take a bus downtown for his interview. (He is a public transportation rockstar. By which I mean that he knows how to take a bus and I don't so I'm impressed.) So it all worked out beautifully, though for a while it seemed like one of those riddles where you have to get the fox and the chicken and the bag of corn across the river without anything getting eaten.
When Scott actually gets a job, we'll have to figure out a long-term solution to getting us both to work (even after Scott gets his license, we'll still only have the one car), but I figure we can cross that bridge when we come to it.
I am currently working on developing a chart of daily, weekly, and monthly tasks, partly so Scott knows what he's supposed to do without even having to be asked and partly so that I know what I'm supposed to do. (Like, I realized we haven't cleaned our tub since we moved here. It gets soap and water in it when we shower. That makes it clean, right?)
I'm also planning to make a master grocery list of sorts with prices for various items so someday I can email it to Scott and then he will be able to benefit from my grocery-shopping wisdom and perhaps someday even make a list and go shopping all by himself. (After he learns how to drive, obviously.)
Bonus take: I got my new Social Security card in the mail today. Something I didn't realize is that the issue date is on the card, so I get to see 1/6/2012 on there every time I look at it for the rest of my life and smile because I love Epiphany. :)
For more Quick Takes, visit Conversion Diary!